


State Line

by newwaves



Category: IT (2019), IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, richie is going through it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 06:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newwaves/pseuds/newwaves
Summary: Richie is the last to leave.He wants to get out while he still can. The state of Maine won’t let him go so easily - not with so much still left unsaid.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 20





	State Line

Bill had left first. He’d flown back home on a red eye to his wife. To the film set. To whatever was left of his career. Mike had left next. He’d barely bothered to pack, leaving what was left of his life in Derry to rot in the library. He’d gotten out. He’d gone to Florida. He hadn’t seen the sun like that; the sea. It had been cleansing. He could breathe.

Ben and Beverly had left together. They’d driven away in Ben’s car; Bev dumping hers at the nearest scrapyard. Richie had watched as they escaped. They were glowing. Their whole lives were ahead of them.

Richie had left last. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if there was anything keeping him in Maine, but then it wasn’t like he had anything to go home to either. His career was over, that he was fairly sure of. You didn’t crash and burn that badly in front of an audience and then come back from it. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to go back. 

His friends had lives to return to; lives to build. He had nothing. He wasn’t bitter, though. He loved them. He’d forgotten what love had felt like until he’d walked into that Chinese restaurant and seen them all again. He’d forgotten what love had felt like until he saw  him again. It was the wind being knocked out of him. It was panic. It was tightness in his chest. It was pain. It was being thirteen again. And he’d forgotten. How had he forgotten? 

He fiddled with the radio as he drove. Static crackled through his speakers as he tried to find any radio station with a working signal in The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Maine. 

Static and then a man’s voice broke through the silence. Finally.

_ Come and hold my hand, I want to contact the living.  _

Ugh. He kept trying. He punched at the auto tune option. The radio clicked and buzzed and fizzed through the dead air. Richie pulled the mirror down, running a hand through his curls. He scratched at his cheek. It itched. He felt his stubble bristle and move beneath his fingers. He needed to shave. 

The radio finally clicked onto a working station. 

_ Sixteen clumsy and shy...  _

Morrissey warbled over the air waves. God, why was every radio station in this fucking state playing such depressing music? 

He’d managed to break both the CD player and aux input in his car - the CD player had fallen victim to him forcibly cramming a broken disc in there, determined it would work. It hadn’t. The aux input was jammed with paper. He couldn’t remember why. 

His music options were limited - the radio or silence. He couldn’t sit alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t bear it. 

The radio it was, then. 

He jabbed at the auto tune option again, sending a silent prayer for something less depressing this time. 

_ Help me darling, help me, please. _

Kate Bush. No such luck then. 

He flicked onto the next station. 

_ Speech gets harder _

_ There's no sense in writing _

_ Help me find a way from this maze _

_ I can't help myself _

Fuck it, this would have to do. He couldn’t fight the radio any longer. He got the message. He hated this state. He made a mental record to never return to Maine unless he really had to. He was tired of its mindfuckery. How could it still have this hold over him? 

The music fazed back over him.

_ Help me find a way from this maze _

_ I'm living in another world to you _

_ And I can't help myself _

It sounded different this time. It hadn’t sounded like the singer, it had sounded like... 

His eyes shot up to the rear view mirror. A pale man smiled at him, his eyes kind. The smile was sad. 

“SHIT!” Richie slammed on the brakes, his heart in his throat. The man in the mirror had gone. 

He hadn’t been there. Of course he hadn’t. Richie dropped his head to the steering wheel, feeling the cool leather against his forehead. 

He was losing his mind. He was really losing his fucking mind. You didn’t just go through what he had gone through unscathed, he knew that. 

He’d been lucky. He’d gotten away with his life, others hadn’t been as fortunate. Not Stan, not  _Eddie_. He couldn’t. He couldn’t think that name. 

This was payback, he knew it. He’d sat on everything his whole life - those emotions, the pain, the wanting. Everything he’d left unsaid because it hurt too much. Because he was too much of a coward. This was his payback. 

It was dead. He’d felt It’s heart stop as they’d crushed it. They’d killed It. They’d been set free. It seemed like the state of Maine had other plans. 

He drew in a long shaky breath and slowly lifted his head until the rear view mirror was in his eyeline again. 

There he was. Concern on his face. 

Richie’s voice broke as he tried to talk, sobs erupted from him. 

_ “Eddie.” _

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. Why him? Of every shitty thing he’d done, of everything he had to feel guilty about, why was it Eddie that he had to see? But he knew. He  knew. 

Eddie looked at him. He smiled. He mouthed something Richie couldn’t read. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie. I didn’t want to leave you there. I never got to tell you. I’m sorry. I never got to tell you that I...”

His own sobs cut through his speech. His eyes blurred with tears. He pulled off his glasses and flung them onto the dashboard. He sobbed into his hands like a child. Thick snot ran from his nose. 

He was suddenly glad that of all the places to breakdown - him, not his car - that he was on a country lane in the middle of nowhere. At least there was no one around to watch him. No one except...

He rubbed at his eyes, fixing back on the mirror. Darkness looked back at him. He was gone. 

“No.” His voice was barely a whisper, _“Eddie.”_

He’d fucked it up again. But it hadn’t been real, it couldn’t have been. He really was losing his mind. 

Whether or not it was real he’d wanted to say it. Just to hear the words aloud. For himself, if for no one else. And he’d still choked. 

He fished his glasses back from the depths of his dashboard and shoved them back onto his face. 

He looked at his reflection. His face was red and blotchy. His eyes were swollen. He looked like shit. He laughed. When didn’t he look like shit? He smiled a watery smile to himself. He had to say it. 

He couldn’t look in the mirrors. He stared dead ahead into the pitch black before him. The road that seemed to stretch on forever. Rain began to splatter onto his windscreen. He flicked on the wipers and watched as they frantically tried to keep up with the rain.

Where he’d stopped there was gravel and grass surrounding him - farmland, he figured, but he couldn’t see any animals. 

He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his chest rattle as he did so.

_“Eddie.”_ He spoke slowly and steadily, feeling each word as they left his mouth. He wasn’t whispering anymore. He spoke at his normal register. He needed to hear it. “Eddie, I love you.” 

There, he’d said it now. 

There was a dim light in the distance. Perhaps it was another car.

On the passenger seat, his phone chirped. A text from Bev.

_I saw him too._

_He knows. _

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested the songs are:  
Feel by Robbie Williams  
Half a Person by The Smiths  
Hounds of Love by Kate Bush  
Living in Another World by Talk Talk


End file.
